The Watersplash

CHAPTER XIII

Miss Silver comes into the Greenings affair in the most casual manner. Nothing could have seemed less important than the fact that having undertaken to match some wool for her niece Ethel Burkett, she should, after a long and unavailing search, have turned in to the tea-shop so conveniently situated just across the road from the scene of her last failure. Ethel would be disappointed. She had come across some good pre-war wool in a box which had been in store, and there was just not enough of it to make a dress for little Josephine. Such a good quality and such a pretty colour. It really did seem a pity. It was one of those grey London days when everything looks cold and drab. A cup of tea would be most refreshing. Scone and butter too perhaps. She really was quite hungry.

The tea-shop was full, but just as she came in, two people got up from a table in the corner, and she thankfully took one of the chairs. She had just placed her handbag and umbrella on the other and was giving her order, when a girl came in and stood looking about for a vacant place. Quite a pretty girl with dark curly hair and a bright colour.

Very little ever escaped Miss Silver, and she was at once aware that the girl was dressed a little too smartly. Neither the cut nor the material was good enough to produce the effect which had obviously been aimed at. The fact that her own garments were both shabby and in a remote tradition in no way detracted from her ability to form a perfectly just estimate of another woman’s clothes. The girl, as she saw at a glance, belonged to the class, so numerous in any large town, who endeavour to satisfy their social ambitions by wearing a cheap copy of the latest mode. As she reflected upon how much nicer the young woman would have looked in a plain, durable coat and skirt, her table was approached and a rather high, pretty voice enquired,

“Please, may I sit here-or are you expecting anyone?”

Miss Silver gathered up her bag and her umbrella and said pleasantly,

“Oh, no, I am quite alone. A cup of tea is so agreeable when one has been shopping, is it not?”

The girl said yes it was. She had a little puzzled frown. She opened her handbag, extracted a powder-compact, and began to do things to her face. The frown persisted. She put away her powderpuff, gave an order to the waitress, and listened with only the most surface attention to some amiable remarks about the weather. It was not until her tea and a plate of fancy cakes had been set down and the waitress had hurried away that she leaned forward rather with the effect of a jerk and said,

“You don’t know me, but you arc Miss Silver, aren’t you- Miss Maud Silver?”

Miss Silver looked faintly surprised. If she had ever seen this girl she would have remembered her-the curly dark hair, the bright colour, the hazel eyes set a little too near together. She said,

“I do not think that we have met before, have we?”

The girl shook her head.

“No, we haven’t met. But I was nursing a case in the house opposite the block of flats where Mirabel Montague had that fake robbery. The dancer, you know. I heard all about you then, because one of the police officers-well, he was rather a friend of mine. A nice boy, just out of the Police College, and quite well connected. And he told me it was you who put them on to its being a fake. He said they all swore by you at Scotland Yard, and he pointed you out to me. It was about a year ago, but I knew you at once as soon as I looked into the tea-shop!”

A year ago-a week or two after James Random’s death-a month before she was offered the Canadian job-Dick Winnington laughing and saying, “If you want to see something out of the family album, just take a look at her! Miss Maud Silver-Maudie the Mascot, pride of the Yard!” She had liked Dick a lot, but he had faded-boys did…She bit her lip and said,

“You were wearing that coat and hat.”

The coat was the one which had reappeared every autumn for years. The black cloth of which it was made was still perfectly good, but there was that indefinable look of having been worn a good deal. The hat, a black felt with a kind of purple starfish on one side and some loops of mauve and black ribbon at the back, had been Miss Silver’s second-best for a good many years. It would continue to do its faithful duty for at least two more winters.

She smiled and said,

“I am Miss Maud Silver. But I am afraid Mr. Winnington must have talked very foolishly about me. I happened to know something which was of some use to the police, and it is every citizen’s duty to do what he can to promote the cause of justice.”

Clarice Dean was a little taken aback. She had to collect herself for a moment before she could get going again. Then she said in a hurry,

“Yes, of course! I mean, that is really what I want to talk to someone about! I was just thinking I would like a cup of tea, and when I looked in and saw you sitting by yourself in this corner I thought, ‘Well, she’d be the one to ask.’ I mean, no one wants to get mixed up with the police if they can help it, but I’ve been getting that worried feeling, and instead of going off it seems to get worse. And when it comes to not getting one’s sleep-well, you do feel as if you wanted to talk to someone!”

Miss Silver said gravely,

“What is worrying you?”

As so often happens, the mere fact of having spoken of what was weighing on her had already brought relief. Clarice said,

“Oh, it’s nothing really. It’s just that I haven’t had anyone to talk to. But if you are mixed up with the police-”

Miss Silver coughed.

“I have no official connection with them.”

Clarice gave her a shrewd glance.

“Well, I don’t know about that. Not, of course, that there is anything for the police to worry about. It’s just I don’t know such a lot about the law, and the way I am placed it seems as if I might find myself in trouble if I talked, and I might find myself in trouble if I held my tongue. I mean, I’ve got my living to earn, and it doesn’t do for a nurse to get a name for repeating things, if you see what I mean.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Clarice helped herself to one of the fancy cakes.

“Yes-I think I do. But you’re not to go to the police. You see, it might be a good thing if someone else knew, and as far as I can see, I’m the only one-” She paused for quite a long time, and then said, “now. You think of awfully silly things when you wake up suddenly in the night, don’t you? And that’s when it comes over me that I’m the only one left. I’ve thought about telling Edward, but I just can’t get hold of him. He’s up to his neck in this new job, and when he isn’t, that girl Susan just sticks to him like a leech.”

Miss Silver poured herself out another cup of tea. The girl was in a state of nervous tension. She was crumbling her cake, lifting a piece of sugar icing half way to her mouth and dropping it, pulling her cup towards her and pushing it away again. It was a pity to let a good cup of tea grow cold. When she had sipped from her own she said,

“And who is Edward?”

Clarice began to tell her all about Edward Random and Greenings, and Mr. Random’s two wills, and going down to nurse Miss Ora Blake. Only she changed some of the names. Greenings became Greenways, and Random-Rivers, but for the rest she used only Christian names and let the surnames go.

“And you see, I was there when he made that will the week before he died. I don’t mean I was in the room, because I wasn’t. But the night before, he called out, and when I went in, there he was, sitting up in bed and saying he had seen Edward in a dream-that was the nephew who was supposed to be dead. He said he had seen him, and Edward had told him he wasn’t dead. ‘So I’ll have to do something about my will, ’ he said. ‘As it is, it all goes to my brother Arnold, and if Edward is alive, that isn’t right.’ Well, I told him he had been dreaming, and he said there were true dreams, and this was one of them. Next day he was pretty well able to be up and dressed and down in his study. I had the afternoon off, and when I came back he told me he had made this will and called in two of the gardeners to witness it. ‘So that’s done, ’ he said, ‘and I can die happy.’ He didn’t tell me where he had put the will, and a week later he was dead.”

“And the nephew came home?”

“Six months afterwards. I had gone to Canada with a patient, and I was there for the best part of a year. That was just after I saw you. I didn’t hear anything about what had happened until I got back again. Then I met a friend of Edward’s, and he said he had turned up all right and was doing some kind of a land agent’s course-said he’d changed a lot, and no one knew what had happened, or where he had been. And he said Edward was awfully hard up because his uncle Arnold Ran-Rivers had come in for all the money and everything. So I thought I’d go down to Greenings and find out what about it, and I wrote to the doctor there to see if he could get me a case.”

The change from Greenways to Greenings did not escape Miss Silver. The name had slipped out so easily as to convince her that it was the real one. Since it was a name with which she was familiar, her attention was naturally arrested. The daughter and son-in-law of an old friend had recently gone to live at Greenings, and she herself had been most kindly pressed to visit them.

“Yes?”

Clarice had warmed to her story. This dowdy little person in her family album clothes was surprisingly easy to talk to. She poured it all out-getting to Greenways-she had very nearly said Greenings-and finding that Edward was just coming down to take up a job he had been offered. “And of course I want to talk to him-after all, it is in his own interest. But I simply never see him alone. That girl Susan I told you about, she just clings! She is in love with him of course-it simply sticks out all over her! But men never see that sort of thing. Edward doesn’t think about anyone but me-at least he wouldn’t if I ever got a chance.”

Miss Silver gave a slight hortatory cough.

“You are not asking my advice on how to secure this young man’s affections?”

Clarice’s colour brightened.

“Oh, no-no-of course not! There isn’t any need for that!” She gave her pretty, silly laugh. “It’s just Susan being so aggravating! Why, the other evening when Edward and I were going to the cinema she positively insisted on coming too! Do you know, she simply never let us have a word together, and I had to talk to that awful gawky boy of the doctor’s! And you see, I’ve simply got to have it all out with Edward, only I’d like to know a little more about how I stand before I tell him his uncle made another will.”

“He does not know?”

“He hasn’t an idea.” She paused and looked about her.

It was not very early, and the tea-shop was emptying. They were in one of the far corners, Miss Silver facing the room, and she with her back to it. The tables on either side of them had been cleared, and for all practical purposes they were as much alone as if they had been in a private room. She looked at Miss Silver.

“That’s where I don’t know how I stand. He’ll be very grateful and all that-bound to be, don’t you think? It’s an old place, and there’s a lot of money. I mean, I would be practically giving them to him, wouldn’t I? But I would rather want to know where I was before I did anything about it. A girl has to think of herself, hasn’t she? Of course it mightn’t be such a bad thing anyhow, with this new job of his. There’s quite a good house-only the old agent wants to stay on in it, so I really don’t know.”

Miss Silver looked at her across the table. She was accustomed to confidences, and she had listened to some strange ones. A pretty girl-without family or backing-brought up to think that she must fight for her own hand-self-centred and more than a little ill-bred-anxious to marry and be settled, anxious to secure her future-ready to use the knowledge she had acquired in any way which would contribute to this end. She said gravely,

“You say that the uncle did make a second will?”

“Oh, yes-he told me he had.”

“And that it was not proved?”

“Oh, no-his brother Arnold came in for everything.”

“And he has done nothing for his nephew?”

“Nothing at all. Everyone says what a shame it is.”

“Then I think you have a plain duty. You should see the family solicitor, tell him what you know, and furnish him with the names of the witnesses. I think you mentioned that they were gardeners on the estate.”

Clarice’s colour changed.

“That’s just it! That’s why I wanted to talk to someone! Billy Stokes-he was one of them. Well, he went to sea and was drowned-washed overboard in a storm.”

“And the other?”

She had not eaten more than half of her sugar cake. She looked down at it now. Crumbling the pink and white icing. Frowning.

“William-he was still there. I spoke to him about the will. He remembered signing it. I said not to talk to anyone until I had made up my mind what was the best thing to do. He wasn’t drunk but he had been drinking-he does-I mean, he did. He said there might be money in it-for both of us. And I said, ”Now don’t you do anything silly!‘ That was last Thursday, and on Saturday morning the daily woman where I am came running in and said he had been found drowned in the watersplash just beyond the village”

Miss Silver said,

“A watersplash would not be deep enough to drown a man unless he fell or was pushed. Even then he should be able to get up again.”

“He was probably drunk-he very often was.” Her voice was casual to the point of indifference, but her hand shook.

“There was an inquest of course. What was the verdict?”

“Death by misadventure.”

“There was no suspicion of foul play?”

Clarice shook her head.

“Even my old ladies never thought of it, and they are the worst gossips in the place.”

But she did not look at Miss Silver. After a moment she said,

“You see what I mean-the witnesses are both dead. I never saw the will-I only know he said that he had made one. I don’t see it would be much good my going to the lawyer and saying that. I mean, would it? And a nurse has to be careful. If she gets a name for making mischief she’s finished. I can’t afford to run the risk of that.”

Miss Silver said, “No-” in a meditative voice.

Hearsay word of a dying man, a hypothetical will, a pretty girl who couldn’t even say that she had seen it, and who was doing her best to marry the beneficiary-the story was thin to the vanishing point.

Clarice pushed back her chair.

“I thought you would say that. I suppose anyone would.” She dusted the cake crumbs from her fingers and stood up. “I’ll just have to do the best I can for myself.”

Miss Silver was in two minds whether to answer that or not. She was always to be very glad that she had done so. She put out a detaining hand.

“You must not try to make a profit for yourself out of what you know. In certain circumstances that might be blackmail, which is a very heavily punishable offence. It is also extremely dangerous-for the blackmailer.”

Clarice’s laugh came a little too quickly.

“Who said anything about blackmail?”

“I did. It is not only a criminal practice, but an extremely dangerous one. I think there is something you are afraid of. If you know anything that you have not told me-anything which you ought to tell the police-pray make no delay in doing so. It is not only your duty, but it will be your protection. Let me urge you to think of what I have said, and to dismiss any idea of making a profit out of someone else’s wrongdoing.”

All the colour had drained out of Clarice’s face. Her mouth opened, but the only sound that came from it was a little gasp. Then quite suddenly her face was red with anger. The brightly lipsticked mouth closed with a snap before opening again to say in a voice which had no sweetness left,

“Mind your own business, can’t you!” She snatched at her gloves, her hand bag, and was gone.

Miss Silver did not attempt to follow her. She sat where she was until she had watched the girl pay her bill and leave the shop. Then, with a little shake of the head, she took up her bag and umbrella and made her own way out into the busy street and back to 15 Montague Mansions.

Clarice went back to Greenings in rather a disturbed state of mind. She had come up to collect a few more of her things, since she had now decided that it was probably going to be worth her while to go on putting up with the Miss Blakes for a bit. Now she sat in a third class carriage and was not so sure. She had shaken the dust of the tea-shop floor from her feet in a hurry, but some of the things Miss Silver had said were not so easily left behind. Blackmail! What a thing to say! “Not only a criminal practice but an extremely dangerous one…

There is something you are afraid of… “ She tried to switch her thoughts to something-anything else. What a pity her brown coat and skirt were still at the cleaners. It would be just the thing for Greenings. The red was much smarter, and it was very becoming, but people in the country were so stuffy about what you wore. Any old rag of a tweed and you were all right, but the minute you put on something a little more up-to-date they looked down their noses and said you were overdressed. Edward at eighteen had been illuminatingly frank on the subject. ”My dear girl, you can’t wear that sort of thing down here. It simply isn’t done. “ Clarice had remembered, and the red remained in the box Maisie Long was keeping for her. Her thoughts lingered upon it regretfully.

She was just beginning to plan a new high-necked woollen dress like the one she had seen in that very exclusive Bond Street shop-only of course she would have to make it herself, and it didn’t look difficult, but there was always something that didn’t come out quite right-and there was Miss Maud Silver’s voice coming through like one of those foreign stations on the radio. “Not only a criminal practice but an extremely dangerous one.” What rubbish! And who cared what a stupid old governess said anyhow?

And then Dick Winnington coming in quite strong and clear, as if he had been there in the carriage with her-“They think no end of her at the Yard.” And Miss Silver again-“Not only criminal but dangerous.” The word fell in with the clanging rhythm of the train-dangerous-dangerous-dangerous- dangerous-

She dragged her thoughts back to the stuff for the new dress. Emerald green-a good dark emerald green-those bright emeralds looked common. And a clip at the neck with green stones in it to bring up the colour. There were quite good shops in Embank. She could get the material there and a Vogue pattern to make it up by, as soon as Miss Blake paid her at the end of the week. She meant to make quite sure about getting her money paid down on the nail. Miss Mildred held the purse-strings, and everyone knew how she hated to part with a penny. “But I’m not putting up with any of that sort of thing, and Dr. Croft will back me up if it comes to a show-down.”

A show-down. The word jutted out from the rest of her thoughts and deflected them. Edward-she would have to have a show-down with Edward. He was dodging-making excuses -deliberately getting out of seeing her alone. Well, that meant he was afraid of her-afraid of what she might do to him- afraid of his own feelings. Some men were like that-shy- nervous-wary. Quite impossible to picture Edward as nervous or shy. Well then, he was wary-didn’t want to get involved. She mustn’t frighten him. The thing to do was to hint at something vague and say that she didn’t quite know what to do about it. It could be something that she had got on her mind-something that his Uncle James had said to her before he died. Yes, that was the way to go about it-“And, Edward, I thought you ought to know, because, you see, I’ve been away, and it’s been quite a shock to come down here and find that it is your Uncle Arnold who has come in for everything.” Yes, that would be the way to do it, only she must lead up to it gradually, so as to make sure of their having to go on meeting and talking about it. She mustn’t say too much at once-just be upset and having something on her conscience, so as to spin it out and keep him guessing. There wasn’t anything wrong about that, was there? Too silly for words to mind what a stupid old maid like Miss Silver said- The iron clang of the train came jangling through: “Dangerous-dangerous-dangerous-”